


Had to be in a Winn Dixie, didn't it?

by lrschiva



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU - Allison is still alive, AU - Canon Divergence, AU - Possessed Derek, Burning, Eventually Derek and Stiles get together, Hitting, Injury warning, M/M, Major Character Injury, Violence, based off of tumblr, fluff at the end, possessed!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:30:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1780825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrschiva/pseuds/lrschiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Derek’s not here.” </p>
<p>“What?” Stiles was honest-to-god terrified now. </p>
<p>In lieu of speaking, Derek closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were pitch black. White part gone completely, along with the green. </p>
<p>Stiles paled. His blood fucking froze. He was so scared he couldn’t speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Had to be in a Winn Dixie, didn't it?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Possessed!Sterek Tumblr AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/55090) by ohsterek.tumblr.com. 



> OKAY MAJOR WARNING: THERE IS MAJOR CHARACTER INJURY. Please pay attention to this. I don't want people to become hurt with what my imagination has come up with. PLEASE HEED THIS WARNING. AND TELL ANYONE YOU KNOW THAT MIGHT BECOME HURT WITH THIS FIC THAT THEY SHOULD NOT READ IT. 
> 
> I wrote and revised it myself so I hope there aren't many mistakes. Please tell me if you need me to tag it with anything else or if you think I have any tags missing. 
> 
> I hope this is what you were looking for!

_Goddamit._

 

“Dad, we’ve run out of edible food again. Why do you keep forgetting to tell me these things? Do you want to kill off the sole heir to the Stilinski name?” Stiles shouted as he closed all the cupboards and fridge door.

 

He walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, where his dad was thrown across the sofa watching a football game Stiles had DVR’ed for him. Stiles stood next to the arm of the sofa with his hands on his hips looking at his father expectantly. The Sherriff lifted his head from the sofa to give his son the most exaggerated eye roll he could. Stiles was not impressed.

 

When the Sherriff continued to ignore his son, Stiles let out a long, frustrated breath. He absolutely did not want to leave his house to go the grocery store on a Sunday, of all days of the week. He was comfortable right now, clad only in his boxer shorts and old ratty Mets t-shirt. His dad was dressed almost identically.

 

They were enjoying their manly weekly Sunday tradition that consisted of old football games, lounging around on couches, wearing nothing but pajamas and occasionally talking about cases if Stiles pressed hard enough. Sundays were not days to go to the market and fucking shop like an old lady.

 

“Stiles, son, I love you but you gotta stop thinking so hard all the time. It shows in your face.” The Sherriff said, not taking his eyes off the TV screen.

 

Stiles scoffed. _He absolutely did not think to hard about anything. At all. Ever_.

 

“You’re thinking too much again.”

 

Stiles groaned, “You know what, I’m gonna stop _thinking_ about how comfortable I am here and I’m going to actually go buy us food so I don’t starve to death and leave all my belongings to Scott.”

 

“Sure, you go do that.”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes but made his way to the staircase and eventually his room.

 

\-------

 

Stiles grumbled in his Jeep all the way to the local Winn Dixie. He didn’t even turn the music on. And Stiles _always_ turned the music on.

 

When he pulled into the parking lot of the Winn Dixie, Stiles was not surprised to see his car was the only one in the client’s parking area. Stiles parked in the shittiest manner possible and huffed and mumbled about the unfairness of the world as he shut off the car and climbed out.

 

_Only Roscoe understands my pain._ Stiles rubbed his Jeep affectionately.

 

Just his luck that it starts to drizzle as he locks his door. _Fucking California weather,_ Stiles thought as he pulled the hood of his hoodie up as he walked briskly to the sliding doors of the market, grabbing a shopping cart before going inside.

 

Taking out his phone, Stiles clicked on his rudimentary shopping list he had quickly written down. Stiles sighed as he started walking up and down the aisles. There was literally no one but the occasional employee who looked like they’d rather gouge their eyes out than be in a Winn Dixie at 10 am on a Sunday.

 

Stiles read the shopping list. The first few items were all vegetables. Stiles sighed and rolled his cart as slow as possible, not wanted to “strain” his muscles. When he finally reached the veggies aisle, he sighed even more.

 

Go ahead, sue him for sighing. He can’t help himself.

 

“Why am I always shopping for everyone? Jesus Christ, I don’t exist for just that, you know.” Stiles mumbled to himself as he began picking the best veggies he could see.

 

_Okay, Dad doesn’t like those. Or those. Ew, what is that? Is that a baby alien?_ Stiles mind tended to babble nonstop when he was alone. Or doing something boring.

 

Stiles grimaced when he went to pick broccoli and touched something wet. _Ok, no broccoli then. Does Dad even like broccoli? Or was that Isaac? Wait, it’s Derek who likes broccoli._ Stiles let out an amused breath. Of course a fucking health geek like Derek would like broccoli.

 

As Stiles pointedly avoided most of the veggies that weren’t green, red or orange, he began to think about what Derek was doing. He hadn’t talked to the werewolf since last week, when they were finally able to kick that vampire out of town. Knowing Derek, he was probably sitting alone at home, minimizing the space between his eyebrows by frowning. Either that or working out, since he was getting _SO_ fat from running around with a pack of werewolves.

 

It wasn’t before long that Stiles began to think of Derek’s workout routine. About how his sweaty shirtless torso would be glistening, how the light would catch on those abs and biceps and make Derek look like he was made of gold. Stiles wanted to touch that golden skin. He wanted to lick the sweat off that broad chest and those strong shoulders. He wanted to feel the muscles twitch under his touch.

 

Stiles of course, completely forgot he was at a fucking _Winn Dixie_ of all places. He quickly decided to steer his thoughts in another direction before things got interesting in his pants. Stiles tried to will away the blush on his cheeks, though that did nothing to minimize the blood dusting his cheeks.

 

He left that _dangerous_ vegetable aisle and started thinking about wet diapers or whatever would subdue his blossoming boner.

 

He finally finished his shopping half an hour later and was currently paying for all the groceries while making pleasantries with the old lady at the checkout counter. When he was done paying, he waved Betty (the checkout lady) goodbye as she smiled warmly at him.

 

His mood had brightened up a bit, but it was still drizzling when he stepped outside. Stiles was definitely not going to let his mood sour because of water. Definitely not.

 

He started walking over to Roscoe with six grocery bags in his arms. He tripped twice and almost fell both times. He mildly wondered how had he even gotten onto the lacrosse team with walking abilities like that.

 

He opened the trunk of his Jeep and carefully put all the bags in. He certainly wasn’t expecting to close the trunk, turn around and come face to face with Derek. He yelped in a _very_ manly way and nearly dropped his keys.

 

“Jesus Derek! I thought we were past the skulking and sneaking around! You can’t just keep doing that.” Stiles exclaimed, exasperated.

 

Derek just stood there scowling at him with those fucking piercing eyes. Then, much to Stiles’ surprise, he started grinning. Wait, scratch that. He was fucking beaming. But it was kinda weird. Stiles started feeling kind of uncomfortable. He took a step back from where he was less than a meter away from Derek.

 

Derek just stood there fucking smiling at him, wolfishly.

 

“What do you want?” Stiles asked, blushing.

 

When Derek didn’t answer, Stiles frowned and started to walk to the driver’s side of his Jeep. He got about two steps in before Derek grabbed his wrist briskly. He pulled his arm until Stiles turned around to face him.

 

“Derek, I have to go home, seriously. What the fuck do you want?”

 

Stiles was starting to get annoyed. They had gotten past this “not talking but instead hurting each other”. Stiles was comfortable with their current relationship, him pining from afar and Derek no longer treating him like he was a pile of teenage stupid.

 

Except, Derek was still staring intensely at him while grinning madly at him.

 

“Look, if you’re trying to creep me out, it’s mildly working. Except where you’re wearing a sweater with thumb holes.” Stiles said as he looked at Derek’s hands on his wrist.

 

Stiles gulped. Derek had his claws out, touching Stiles’ wrist’s pulse point.

 

“Um, Derek, what-”

 

“Shut up.” Derek said, wolfish grin still plastered on his face.

 

Stiles opened his mouth to talk again but stopped abruptly when Derek’s clawed hand took a hold of the side of his face. Without another word Derek smashed Stiles’ head against the side of his jeep. Stiles shouted as the pain flared against his temple and fell down onto his knees. When he looked up, Derek was still standing there, slowly being enveloped by black. That’s all he could remember before he blacked out.

 

\-------

 

Stiles slowly opened his eyes. He moved his head from where it was resting on something. Pain flared so strongly that Stiles stopped moving immediately and closed his eyes in pain. He opened his eyes again, and as he did so he noticed he was in Derek’s loft. On his couch to be more specific.

 

He gingerly touched put his fingers on his throbbing temple. He took in a sharp breath as a small flare of pain started up again. When Stiles looked at his fingers, they were red with blood. His blood.

 

_What the fuck is going on?_

 

Stiles moved his head, slower this time, off from the back of the couch. He doesn’t remember coming to Derek’s loft. _Derek_ , Stiles thought as he quickly glanced around, ignoring his pounding head.  _Where the fuck was he?_ Stiles was going to smash his face in for that little parking lot incident.

 

When Stiles tried to get up he noticed his legs were stuck together. He looked down and saw his calves were duck taped together. And he was also lacking pants.

 

_What the flying fuck?_

 

Stiles heard footsteps and looked at the staircase leading to the spare rooms of the loft. Derek was coming down. When he saw Stiles was awake, he climbed down a bit faster, and grinned closed-mouthed at Stiles.

 

“Well, Sleeping Beauty is finally awake. How was the nap?” Derek said as he chuckled.

 

“Aha, you’re hilarious Derek”, Stiles answered sarcastically, “But would you care to explain why the hell you cracked my skull, kidnapped me, stole my pants and duck-taped me?”

 

Stiles was breathing hard. He was this close to getting up from off the couch and punching Derek in his pretty face. Multiple times. Derek refrained from answering for a moment as he crossed the living room.

 

“Hush, you’ll see. Sit tight while I grab some stuff.” Derek answered angrily as he disappeared through the kitchen doorway.

 

Stiles stared incredulously. _What’s wrong with him? Is he out of his mind?_ Suddenly his pocket started vibrating.

 

_His cellphone!_

Stiles hastily picked it out of his hoodie pocket. Scott’s name was flashing across the screen. He picked up as quickly as he could.

 

“Stiles, where are you? You’re Dad is looking for you everywhere!” Scott exclaimed angrily over the line.

 

“Scotty, thank fuck. Dude, something’s very wrong. Listen to me, ‘kay? Derek fucking smashed my head against my jeep and he’s acting all crazy werewolf-psycho. I don’t know why the fuck he’s doing this.”

 

“What? What is he doing? Where are you? What do you mean psycho?” Scott’s tone went from angry to really worried in the space of a millisecond.

 

“I don’t know. I blacked out and now I’ve woken up pants-less and my legs are duct-taped. Scott, it’s weird ok. When I was talking to him, he had this wolfish grin on and wasn’t saying much. It’s like he’s back to the way he was before all the Peter and Jackson shit went down.” Stiles clutched the phone against his face.

 

“Stiles, what are you talking about? Where – ”

 

Stiles couldn’t hear the rest of what Scott was saying because his cell phone was ripped from his hand. Stiles whirled around and panicked. Derek was standing behind the couch holding his cell phone in his hand. He could still faintly hear Scott talking.

 

Derek _tsked_ and looked depreciatingly at Stiles. “I thought I told you to stay hushed. Not to call Scott.” He said calmly.

 

Then he threw Stiles’ cellphone against the closest cement wall. Stiles gasped as his cell phone exploded into at least five broken pieces. Stiles whimpered at the death of his cell phone. _His dad would murder him._ He was brought back to reality as Derek went round the sofa and sat on the coffee table in front of Stiles.

 

“There, problem solved. Now Stiles, I don’t want you to try and ask for help. Or reason with me. We can do this in a much harder way if you don’t listen to me.” Derek raised his eyebrows, as if challenging Stiles to disobey him.

 

“Derek, what are you talking about?”

 

“Derek’s not here.”

 

“What?” Stiles was honest-to-god terrified now.

 

In lieu of speaking, Derek closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were pitch black. White part gone completely, along with the green.

 

Stiles paled. His blood fucking froze. He was so scared he couldn’t speak.

 

Derek blinked again and his eyes returned to normal as if Stiles’ reality hadn’t been turned upside-down.

 

“You know, this Derek guy was pretty hard to take over. Strong will and everything. But, nothing like threatening someone’s pack to get them to relent their body. Actually tastes sweet once they do.”

 

Stiles still stared, scared out of his wits. Derek was fucking grinning at him like had won three million dollars. Scratch that, whatever this thing was, was the one fucking grinning at him like had won three million dollars.

 

“What do you want?” Stiles asked as bravely as he could, which wasn’t very brave.

 

“Me? I don’t want anything in particular. Just some satisfaction for kicking so many of my buddies from Beacon Hills.”

 

When Stiles contorted his face in puzzlement, Derek placed a hand on his trembling thigh.

 

“What? You don’t think vampires, witches, fairies, mermen, and whatever the hell else exists can be friends? Don’t believe in inter-species relationships? Well, you’re part of one you idiot.” Derek sarcastically said as he stroked Stiles’ thigh.

 

“Okay, fucker. I get it. You possessed Derek to get back at our pack. That’s fucking cute. Now get the fuck out of him.” Stiles tried his most threatening stare.

 

“Or what? It’s not like you can do anything about it. You know, it’s cute to see you trying to defend him. Almost makes me want to give up. Almost. But seeing you two pine for each other from afar is worth the trouble I’m going through. Now I can give Derek payback for hurting my friends hurting the only person he actually loves.”

 

Stiles took a shaky breath. _Derek loves him?_

 

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. You’re both too dull to know you loooove each other.” Derek exclaimed dreamily as he fluttered his hands around.

 

“I-” Stiles began, but closed his mouth. For once, he had no witty comeback.

 

Stiles watched stoically as Derek got up and grabbed his hands. He held Stiles’ wrists in a hand as he grabbed the duct tape. He measured out a piece to his liking and ripped it free with his teeth.  He took Stiles wrists and started wrapping them with duct tape. All Stiles could think was: Does Derek _know_? When Derek looked up and saw that Stiles was in his own head, he let out a long breath.

 

“In case you’re wondering Stiles, Derek knows about your little crush. When I told him he didn’t want to believe it. I laughed in his face though. The little pack bitch is in love with a former alpha. A match made in heaven.” Derek spat sarcastically.

 

Derek measure more tape. He ripped it again with his teeth. He straddled Stiles and pushed Stiles’ head against the back of the couch. Stiles’ head was exploding with pain and he grimaced and sucked a sharp breath in. Derek ignored him. He watched as tears sprung into Stiles’ eyes. Stiles looked up and did his best to keep the tears in. A few still spilled over without his consent.

“You know, Scotty was my original choice”, Derek began and continued when Stiles tried to protest, “Shhh.”

 

He put the tape over Stiles’ mouth. Stiles couldn’t help but think the worst. More tears spilled out of his eyes. Derek raised his eyebrows and beamed at Stiles.

 

“But no, we couldn’t have that. You see, this one took a liking to you. Pretty strong liking, in fact.” Derek paused to look at Stiles.

 

Stiles stared back.

 

“You love him?” Derek asked as he raked his eyes over Stiles incapacitated body.

 

Stiles nodded.

 

He was scared out his mind, he couldn’t help but cry. He started to think what his dad would find. But before he could get too deep into thought, Derek began speaking again.

 

“Yes, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

 

He had fetched a lighter out of his pocket and was still straddling Stiles. Stiles’ eyes widened. Derek took a deep breath.

 

“Hmmm… These werewolf senses are nice. Fear smells orgasmic.”

 

Derek brought the lighter closer to Stiles. Stiles started to shake his head. He tried to shout but only muffled sounds came out. Derek paid him no heed.

 

Stiles started to scream even more as Derek placed the open flame to Stiles’ arms. Pain exploded and Stiles screamed and screamed. Derek laughed as a blister started to form and burst. Blood trickled out of the wound and Derek finally brought the flame away from Stiles’ arm. Stiles was still screaming and crying. Derek kneeled in front of the couch and grabbed Stiles’ leg.

 

Stiles screamed in pain and terror as Derek repeated the process on his inner thigh, by his knee. Derek just beamed even more.

 

 

\-------

 

Stiles was covered in open blisters. Blood was still trickling out of many of them. Whoever the fuck said that pain becomes numb when someone wakes up from blacking out because of it was fucking wrong. Stiles felt like he was sitting on a cactus. Everything was on fire.

 

Derek walked back into the living room, wiping his hands on his jeans. They were speckled with blood.

 

“Oh good. You’re awake! Now comes the best part.”

 

Stiles flinched away from Derek, trying to scoot away from him on the couch. Derek took a hold of his knee. Stiles stopped moving. He was still crying when he looked at Derek. Nothing in Derek’s eyes showed any signs of remorse. Or care.

 

“Now, my dear, sweet and fragile Stiles, comes the best part,” Derek grabbed Stiles by his face, swiping his thumb across the duct tape, “I’m going to let Derek, the real Derek, mind you, talk while I work. Isn’t that grand? He’ll be able to see, hear, smell but I’ll be doing all the touching.” Derek laughed.

 

Derek closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again and looked at Stiles, recognition and horror passed through them. Stiles couldn’t stop the tears. He was looking at Derek again.

 

“Stiles! Oh god, Stiles. Stiles, it’s me, it’s Derek. I’m sorry, I’m trying my best to stop.”

 

As soon as he finished his sentence, Derek punched Stiles on the jaw. Stiles cried out in pain.

 

“Oh god. No! Stop, please! Stop! Stiles I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Derek’s voice broke with a sob but his body was opposing his voice.

 

Derek picked up Stiles from the couch and threw him down on the floor. When Stiles opened his eyes, he was looking into teary eyes. Eyes that were filled with apologies, horror and something else. Stiles couldn’t think of a word for it.

 

Derek slapped his other cheek. And punched his face again. Both Stiles and Derek cried out. One screamed in pain and one screamed in horror, terror and frustration.

 

Suddenly Stiles felt something stab him in his thighs. He screamed. Derek started crying with him. Turns out it was Derek’s claws. His hand twisted, shoving the claws deeper into Stiles’ thighs. Stiles screamed so loud his voice broke, no muffled sound coming out.

 

Derek was trying to stop his body from doing what it was doing. He was screaming and apologizing. He kept saying Stiles’ name but to no avail. He wanted to reach out and caress Stiles’ face but he couldn’t. It was Derek’s worst nightmare, he was destroying the one thing he loved and he could see, hear, smell and feel the blood, fear, terror, tears, but he couldn’t stop it.

 

Stiles was trying desperately to remain strong for Derek, the real Derek, but every time a fist or foot collided with his body, he felt himself slipping away.

 

Stiles only blacked out after Derek had left bruises all over his body.

 

\-------

 

Stiles woke up where he had last bee moved. The floor. Everything ached, stung and hurt so fucking bad Stiles wanted to faint again. He looked outside the window and it was dark. Derek had had him for at least six hours now. It had felt like days.

 

Derek wasn’t in the living room.

 

Stiles tried to sit up to see where the other man was, but he found he had no strength. It wasn’t long before Derek returned. He was drinking a glass of water like he was just sitting at home watching TV, but he definitely didn’t look the part. From what Stiles could see, blood was coating his knuckles and fingers. Bruises were forming along the ridges of his knuckles. His clothes were also coated in Stiles’ blood.

 

Stiles, however, was naked save for boxer briefs. Derek had taken off his shirt to put a few more blisters and bruises across his tortured body.

 

“Wasn’t that fun? I had fun at least. I’m sure Derek will be scarred for life once I kill you. Right now he’s screaming in here trying to push me out. Takes more than that though.” Derek chuckled and crouched over Stiles limp body.

 

He placed his hand over various bruises, causing Stiles to cry out as pain flared in each wound.

 

“Right now, I’m thinking I’ll play a bit more with these claws. They’re so – ”

 

Derek was interrupted as the door to the loft flew open. Stiles couldn’t see what caused it, but when Derek stood up and looked he growled. He jumped over the couch and all Stiles heard was the splash of some liquid and yelp of pain. It sounded just like Stiles’ screams from now a half hour before.

 

There were more sounds of bodies moving around coming from behind the couch. Stiles couldn’t practically hear the punches and claw swipes going on. He started crying again and screaming.

 

A few more minutes passed before Derek was subdued. Stiles could tell because he was screaming profanities and curses about how he would murder everyone. Suddenly someone started to speak loudly and clearly in a language Stiles didn’t understand and Derek started to scream.

 

Stiles felt his world slipping again and he didn’t want it to.

 

\-------

 

When Stiles woke up, his mind was groggy. He didn’t know where he was. When he remembered everything that had happened, Stiles started to breathe rapidly. He didn’t feel the duct tape against his lips anymore.

 

Stiles sat up rapidly, wincing at the pain. He checked his wrists and his legs for duct tape, but didn’t find any. He noticed he was sitting in a bed that was slightly dirty with what he assumed was his own blood.

 

“Hello?” He called out, but regretted it when he realized Derek might still be walking around.

 

He watched the door of the room terrified. His heart rate was climbing by the second. He could feel his breaths become shorter and shorter. When the door swung open, he swore he had a mini heart attack.

 

It wasn’t Derek, it was Scott.

 

“Stiles!” Scott shouted and ran towards the bed.

 

Stiles leapt into his arms. He clutched at Scott tightly and Scott clutched right back. He began to sob against his best friend’s shoulder. In between hitching breaths, Stiles tried to speak.

 

“Shhh… Stiles, it’s alright. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Scott whispered as he smoothed a hand up and down Stiles’ back.

 

He doesn’t know how long they stood there before he stopped crying. Scott nudged him gently back into bed but didn’t leave his side, always keeping his hand somewhere on Stiles. When Stiles finally calmed down, he began to speak.

 

“How did you find me?” His voice was practically gone because of all of his screaming.

 

“It took us a while. We searched all over town. Allison even got her dad to help us. I couldn’t find your scent or Derek’s. We think he might have been carrying around wolf’s bane the entire time. When we couldn’t think of anywhere you might be, we went to Deaton.” Scott answered.

 

Stiles’ head felt like jelly.

 

“We told him what you told me and he asked us some questions. After we talked Kira remembered that we hadn’t looked here. So everyone drove here as fast as they could. When we opened the door, Derek immediately came towards us. Deaton threw some liquid on him which hurt him and then we eventually pinned him down. Deaton performed an exorcism, I think. I actually don’t know.” Scott smiled sheepishly and laughed without humor.

 

Stiles felt depleted.

 

That’s when Derek burst through the door. Stiles took one look at him and his heart rate started climbing. He started to panic, but when he looked into Derek’s eyes he saw tears. He saw fear and regret and something else he couldn’t name, again.

 

“Stiles…” Derek’s voice sounded broken. He sounded small and vulnerable and hurt.

 

He came over to the bed and knelt next to it. Stiles couldn't breathe. He was so afraid. He was afraid he’d stare into those eyes again and see something that wasn’t the man he cared about. He feared the real Derek had died.

 

“Derek?”

 

Derek nodded vigorously and started crying. Stiles noticed tears had started streaming down his face as well. Derek sobbed and practically leapt onto Stiles. Stiles ignored the pain and wrapped his arms around the shaking body.

 

“Stiles, I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry. I tried everything. I tried so hard to get it out, to get it to stop hurting you but he was burning me from the inside,” Derek took a hitching breath, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry….”

 

Stiles was crying strongly now. “It’s ok. I know it wasn’t you. I know.”

 

Scott got up and left, shutting the door behind him.

 

“I’m so sorry Stiles. I tried everything. I would never do that to you, you know that right?” Derek stared pulled back and stared at Stiles with bloodshot eyes.

 

“I know Derek.” Stiles stared right back.

 

“I love you. I love you so much. It was horrible Stiles. I couldn’t - ” Derek sobbed again and hugged Stiles hard.

 

“You do?” Stiles asked in the most broken voice he’d ever heard.

 

“I do Stiles. So much and I regretted not telling you the moment it took over me. I just never did because I thought you didn’t like me back.”

 

Stiles laughed because of course. Of fucking course they were too dense too notice each other.

 

“Derek, you’re insane. I’ve loved you ever since you found us that day looking for Scott’s aspirator. I’m so in love with you, you have no idea. I love you so much Derek.”

 

Derek pulled back from the hug and gave him a watery smiled. Stiles smiled dopily right back.

 

“We’re idiots.” Derek said.

 

“We are.”

 

They laughed together. Eventually Derek lied down with Stiles head on his chest and they fell asleep together.

 

\-------

 

Stiles bruises, cuts, and blisters took two months to heal. Every day Derek would apologize multiple times.

 

Stiles kept telling him that he was forgiven. Telling him that he was okay. Telling him that he loved him.

 

And if Derek didn’t shut up with that, Stiles just kissed him quiet.

 

The Sherriff didn’t let Stiles out of the house for two weeks after that day. He threatened to shoot Derek. Multiple times. Eventually he understood though. That, and the fact that Stiles confined within a household alone brings eventual chaos.

 

When Stiles was fully healed, he and Derek went to talk to Deaton about preventing future things like this from happening. Deaton only gave them one option, a symbol.

 

“Oh my god. This is so Supernatural. We’re like Dean and Sam.” Stiles beamed as he sat in the Camaro.

 

Derek wondered where his life had gone.

 

“We’re not Sam and Dean. We have sex.” Derek retorted.

 

Stiles spluttered. And flushed. Which was something that Derek actually liked quite a lot.

 

“Fine, asshole. We’re not Sam and Dean. We’re Dean and Cas.” Stiles smirked.

 

Derek rolled his eyes in the most dramatic way possible.

 

\-------

 

The pain was worth it.

 

He couldn’t deny that he loved seeing Stiles have the same tattoo as him and at the same spot, over their hearts. ( _Shut up_ Stiles, it’s not sentimental or romantic. _Hah!_ Yeah right you _softie_.)

 

That and the fact Stiles liked licking his tattoo and occasionally biting at it when they had sex.

 

That was definitely worth the pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments alway appreciated. 
> 
>  
> 
> My tumblr is this: whittelinski.tumblr.com


End file.
